


Angel Space

by Jupiter_Ash



Series: The Tales of Eden Cottage [6]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Autistic Character, Established Relationship, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, POV Outsider, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-09-25 09:48:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20374765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jupiter_Ash/pseuds/Jupiter_Ash
Summary: “See that you do not despite one of these little ones. For I tell you that their angels in heaven always see the face of my Father in heaven.” – Matthew 18:10 (NIV)Meet Joshua. Joshua is eight years old. Joshua is different.





	1. Mr Angel

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first story in Joshua's story. There are (currently) three planned in total, each technically a stand alone story, but all interlinking. So while this is marked as 1 of 3, it is it's own complete story.

_“I suppose there is one thing we should talk about though,” Crowley said finally._

_Aziraphale looked questioning._

_“That boy,” Crowley continued, “the one you were talking to, who, you know.”_

_“Hmm, yes,” Aziraphale said. “Yes, quite. Rather a bit of a pickle with that one. I suppose the question is, what are we going to do about young Joshua?”_

*-*-*

Meet Joshua Hargreaves.

Joshua is eight years old. He has brown hair, brown eyes and is well within the average height band for his age.

He is the son of Graham and Amanda Hargreaves. 

He is an only child.

He is, according to what he knows and what other people have said, _different_. 

Right at this moment, for instance, he is carefully lining up his colouring pencils in an order that makes perfect sense to him but apparently does not make as much sense to other people. He doesn’t mind that what makes sense to him doesn’t make sense to everyone else, provided that he is left alone to do things his way. Problems only really occur when other people – usually children – decide to mess up his order, or, once when that teaching assistant at school had decided that the best thing for his so called development was to stop him from ordering everything.

That had not worked out well; for him, for his parents, and, even more so, for the teaching assistant.

So he’s currently lining up his pencils because he’s going to draw a picture, and you need to have all the pencils lined up in order before you start because otherwise you won’t know where the right pencils are.

His pencil case has Pokémon on it. He likes Pokémon. He knows a lot about Pokémon.

For a short while he had like dinosaurs instead, but that had ended when he realised that nothing about them made sense and that there was something very wrong about them.* 

_* While he had not known it at the time, young Joshua had managed to figure out what generations of palaeontologists had not. That essentially, God has a sense of humour. _

So Joshua had moved onto Pokémon instead. 

Yes, he was aware that Pokémon were not actually real. Yes, he was aware that being interested* in them was rather pointless. Yes, he was aware that not everyone found them as fascinating as him. But fascinating he found them, and there were so many of them. So many things to learn and remember; so many names and forms and skills and strengths and types and appearances and colours and sizes, and all of that. So many interesting things to find out.

_* fixated_

For instance, did you know that Azurill is the only Pokémon that can change gender? That Xatu stays still and quiet because it can see both past and future at the same time but can do nothing to change terrible events. Or that Pikachu – who looks like a mouse – and Meowth – who looks like a cat – are exact opposites in every way, even down to their Pokedex with Pikachu at #25 and Meowth at #52?

Well, these were just some of the interesting facts that Joshua knows about Pokémon.

One of the things he particularly likes about Pokémon though is the way they can evolve into a new form. A Pikachu, for instance, could start out as a Pichu before evolving into a Pikachu and then later, in certain circumstances, evolving into a Raichu.

One of the things he liked doing was drawing Pokémon in their various forms, so a Pichu, then a Pikachu, then a Raichu. Or an Igglybuff, then a Jigglypuff, and then a Wigglytuff. Or an Abra, then a Kadabra, then an Alakazam. Or a- but you get the idea.

He has drawn lots and lots of pictures like that.

Today though he isn’t drawing a Pokémon, he’s drawing a person. In fact, he’s drawing the stranger he had met at the barbecue.

The stranger with the big white wings.

*

There had been lots of people at the barbecue. He didn’t like being around so many people, but he had promised his mum that he would give it a try, but also to let her know if everything was becoming too much for him, preferably before it did indeed become too much for him.

There had been other children there as well, but as usual they had more or less ignored him, which was fine with him as he had his Pokémon book and was quite happy sitting in a corner of the garden ignoring everyone else.

In fact, he would have happily stayed in that corner for the whole thing, but then he had seen the man with very pale hair and wearing all yellow. He must have been one of the new neighbours everyone had been recently talking about. Lots of people were trying to talk to him after all. Maybe it was because of the light that seemed to be around him, like a glow, bright and warm but comforting rather than overwhelming. It was nice. It seemed to draw people to him. And he had a really nice smile as well. So that probably helped.

It was then that Joshua caught sight of the wings. The stranger moved slightly and suddenly the wings were there, big and bright and white, and fluttering slightly as the man laughed. 

They were beautiful. 

Then the stranger moved again and they were gone.

Joshua was transfixed. He had never seen anything like it before. When they did not appear again he started to think that maybe he had imagined it, but as he had heard it said before, he did not have that sort of an imagination, so it must have been real.

Maybe if he watched for long enough he would be able to see them again?

So he watched.

And he was right.

One moment the stranger was trying some dessert, the next moment his wings were fluttering everywhere. All big and excited and so, so pretty.

No one else seemed to notice though. And the wings didn’t seem to hit anyone as the stranger moved, which was odd as well, but there were a lot of things about this that seemed to be odd. And now the wings didn’t appear to be going away again, which was nice, but still no one else seemed to see them.

So Joshua continued to watch, until finally the person the stranger was talking to was called away and he was on his own. 

This was Joshua’s chance.

Putting his book down, he slipped quickly through the crowd and up to the stranger in the yellow jacket. Tugging on the stranger’s sleeve, he waited until the stranger smiled at him, then he reached up onto his tippy-toes and whispered, “I like your wings.”

*

Joshua likes the colour yellow. It’s bright and cheerful. It’s the colour of sunshine and happiness. He uses a lot of yellow while drawing the stranger. Yellow jacket, yellow trousers, yellow hair. It makes the stranger look happy.

Then he starts drawing the stranger again, this time next to the first figure, but far enough away, because this second figure is going to have wings.

*

“Thank you,” the stranger says and his smile is like happiness itself. “You must be a very special young man if you can see them.”

Joshua isn’t too sure what to say to this because special is something he has heard people call him before, but not always in a nice way. Certainly not in the way the stranger said it.

“They move,” he said instead, “when you’re happy.”

The stranger beamed at him, his wings fluttering again as he did so.

“They do, indeed,” the stranger said. “And are they moving right now?”

Joshua nodded.

“Then do you know what that means?”

It means you are happy talking to me, Joshua thought but didn’t say. Instead he looked at the stranger’s hair. “You glow,” he said

“So I do,” the stranger said, his wings fluttering again. “And right at this moment that’s all down to you.”

That was good, Joshua thought. It meant he must have been doing something right.

“What are you?” he whispered.

But the stranger did not get a chance to reply, because then another stranger was approaching, skinny in black and sunglasses and almost the opposite to the original stranger in every way. There was a glow about him too, but where the first stranger’s glow was sort of white and gold, this stranger was more red.

Also, his wings were black.

“Here you go, angel,” the new stranger said, handing over a drink. “And who’s this you’re making friends with then?”

“Why,” the angel said, “you know that part completely slipped my mind.” Then he was bending down a touch closer but not so close that Joshua did not like it. “And what might your name be, young man?”

Joshua told him. 

The angel beamed at him, glowing even more as he straightened up.

“Well then, Crowley,” he said, “this is Joshua. Joshua, this is my friend Crowley. Joshua was just saying that he liked my wings.”

“Was he now?” this Crowley said, his own wings suddenly twitching behind him. “Well, they are very pretty wings.”

The first stranger suddenly glowed brighter at that, his wings fluttering again.

“And what about my friend here?” the first stranger said. “Does he have wings as well?”

Joshua nodded. “They’re black,” he said. “Like a crow.” He turned back to the first stranger. “Are you an angel?”

“I am indeed,” the first stranger said with a big smile. “And well done you for working that out. You must be a very clever young man.”

Joshua wasn’t too sure about that. “He called you angel,” he said, pointing to the Crowley person. “And you have wings. Like an angel,” he added.

“Even so,” the stranger said, “well done. You see, not only did you work that out all by yourself, but you are the only person here special enough to be able to see the wings at all.”

“So no one else knows you’re an angel?” Joshua said.

“No one else knows,” the stranger admitted. “Just you, me, and Crowley here.”

“Oh.” Joshua said. Then because he had run out of anything else to say, he said, “Do you like Pokémon?”

*

He drew the wings in yellow because if he drew them in white they would not show up on the white paper. Next time, he thought, he should maybe use coloured paper, a dark colour so they would really stand out. For the moment though, yellow was fine.

Yellow was a good colour and went with the angel’s yellow clothing.

Even his hair was yellow.

And the wings were good. They were big and strong. They made the angel look big and strong as well.

Finishing off the last feather, Joshua nodded to himself. Then picking up the pencil again he started work on the angel’s third form.

*

It turned out that the stranger, the angel, did not in fact know anything about Pokémon. In fact, he hadn’t even heard of them.

It had been a long time since Joshua had found anyone who had not heard of Pokémon at all. Even the adults. For a moment he wasn’t even sure where to begin, after all there was just so much that he could say, then he remembered his Deluxe Essential Pokémon Handbook, which, in his haste to tell the angel that he liked his wings, he had left behind in the corner of the garden where he had been sitting.

Fear struck him by the sudden realisation that not only did he not have his book on his person right at that moment, but that anything could have happened to it. It would not be the first time that someone had damaged something that he particularly cared about, even if the other person – child – had not apparently meant to have done it.

Darting through all the people, he ran back to the corner and to his book, which was fortunately exactly where he had left it. Clutching it to his chest he closed his eyes and breathed deeply in the way he had been taught.

In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.

He felt a bit better. He had his book. His book was fine.

In. Out. In Out.

He had his book. His book was fine.

In. Out. In. Out.

Then he remembered why he had been rushing to get his book. The angel. He was going to show it to the angel.

But the angel was no longer alone. Nor was he just with the stranger with the black wings. There were other people talking to them now. Adults.

And he couldn’t see the angel’s wings any more.

No, there they were, back when the angel smiled, but they weren’t moving as much. There was no fluttering.

He started scratching at his hand, not sure what to do. He wanted to tell the angel all about Pokémon and show him his book, but at the same time that meant having to go over there where there were people. 

Adults.

He didn’t like it when there were lots of people. 

He sat down. 

He waited.

And he waited.

“Hello, honey.”

He looked up.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?”

He clutched the book closer to his chest and he nodded.

“Oh honey, look at your hand. Have you been scratching again?”

He looked. His left hand was a little red on top.

“Darling, I thought I told you to tell us if you were getting overwhelmed.” His mum bent down to his level. “Do you want to go home?”

Did he want to go home? 

What he really wanted was the opportunity to talk to the angel again. To tell him about his favourite Pokémon.

He shook his head.

“Are you sure, sweetheart?”

He nodded. 

“Okay then, but only if you’re sure. Please promise to tell us if it becomes too much.”

He nodded.

The angel was talking to someone else now. 

His wings were still very pretty though.

*

He drew two sets of wings on the third version of the angel. He didn’t really know why, but it just seemed to make sense. If one set of wings were good, then two sets could only be better.

They were very pretty wings, very big, very powerful.

Very yellow.

He liked the yellow.

The angel still seemed to be missing something though.

Sitting back, Joshua considered it. He had the wings, he had the glow, but there was still something missing. Maybe the angel should be holding something. Something that went with the wings.

He picked up the yellow. Then he put it down again and picked up the orange instead. 

*

Finally! 

Finally there was a gap between people wanting to talk to the angel. 

It seemed to have taken forever. But then people would want to talk to the angel. He was an angel. His natural glow drew people in. Even if no one else could see it.

It had drawn Joshua in, after all. Although maybe it had been the wings.

He hadn’t been able to see much of the wings though. Most of the time there had had been someone blocking the way, which was frustrating, but now that the angel was alone again he would be able to see them again.

Clutching his Deluxe Essential Pokémon Handbook to his chest, he darted back through the people to where the angel was standing.

Originally the angel wasn’t looking in his direction, then he was and then he was smiling, his wings ruffling slightly behind him.

“Ah, young Joshua, I wondered where you had disappeared to. Is that your book?”

Joshua nodded.

“Oh how marvellous,” the angel said. “I love books. And I can see that you have really loved this one.”

Joshua looked at the book.

“Now,” the angel said, “I believe you were going to tell me more about these Pokémon?”

So Joshua did so, starting with the basics of what Pokémon were, where they were found and what they could do.

The angel listened in a way that no other adult ever had. He even made comments like, “Goodness,” and “Oh my”, and “Whatever will people think of next?” And all the while his wings fluttered gently behind him.

They were very pretty wings, and Joshua was just wondering if he could ask if he could touch them, when he realised he could hear his name being mentioned by the adults and that some of the adults were looking at them or pretending not to look at them, which was practically the same thing. In his experience though, this was not always a good thing and he wondered what he might have done now. He didn’t think he had done anything wrong, but he had made that mistake in the past.

And then suddenly his dad had joined them.

“Ah, I think that is enough now, Joshua,” his dad said. “I think you’ve told Mr. Fell enough about Pokémon for today. Why don’t you go and see what the other children are doing?”

Joshua had no interest in finding out what the other children were doing, but he had learnt from experience that what his dad meant by something like that was that he should stop what he was doing and go and do something else.

He didn’t want to stop what he was doing though. He wanted to keep talking to the angel. The angel was nice. The angel actually listened to him. The angel seemed to understand him, even when he lost his words, or mixed up sounds, or repeated what he had already said.

The angel was nice.

The angel was calming.

Biting his lip, he looked at the angel, then he looked at his dad, and then he looked at the ground as he clenched his book tightly to his chest.

It was at that point that the angel crouched down slightly so they would be closer together. 

“Thank you, Joshua,” the angel said. “That was all quite fascinating. I look forward to learning more about these Pokémon at another time. Maybe then we can talk about the ones with wings in particular.”

Wings, Joshua heard. 

And behind the angel he saw the pretty white ones stretching out widely just for him.

*

He gave the third angel a sword. But not just any sword, a sword covered in orange, yellow and red fire.

So now the angel had two sets of wings and a fire sword.

Yes, that was good. He liked that. It was very… angel-like.

“Hello, honey, what’s this you’re drawing?”

He looked up. His mum looked back at him.

“Now this doesn’t look like a Pokémon I recognise.”

His mum paused for a moment, reaching over to his drawing to turn it more towards her. 

“Is this Mr. Fell? From the barbecue?” she asked after a moment.

There was something about the way she said it that made Joshua want to bite his lip and scratch his hand. Had he done something wrong?

“Oh honey, you do know he’s not actually an angel, right?” his mum continued. “That’s just what Mr. Crowley calls him. It’s called a term of endearment, like ‘honey’ or ‘sweetheart’. It doesn’t mean he’s an actual angel.”

Joshua nodded, because actually he did know that.

But then again, he also knew that Mr. Crowley called him that because he was in fact an angel. 

There were lots of things that Joshua found confusing, but this was not one of them. The angel was called angel because he was an angel.

He had wings and everything.

And he had said so.

The other stranger had wings as well, but there was something different about him, so Joshua wasn’t sure what he was, but he wasn’t worried about it because the stranger was a friend of the angel’s which meant he must be alright.

But no one else could see the wings, which meant that no one would believe him if he said that the angel was in fact an angel, which meant it was probably better if he didn’t say anything about it at all.

So he just nodded, which seemed to please his mum.

“But they are very good pictures though,” his mum continued. “It looks just like him. And you’ve made him look really quite like an angel as well. And you’ve even given him a sword. That’s very imaginative. I think you should have an extra sticker for that.”

That was nice, although he wasn’t sure what was so imaginative about giving the angel a fiery sword. Not if the sword was the angel’s in the first place.

“Now, dinner is going to be ready in twenty minutes, so if you are finished can you pack away your pencils and put them back in your box.”

He nodded.

“Good boy.”

Then he waited until his mum had gone back into the kitchen before reaching for the black pencil. He considered for a moment, then leaning over to the top of the page he thoughtfully and carefully wrote, MR ANGEL.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued in “Mr Snake-ley”.
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who has commented on this series so far. I can't express how much it means to me or how much it's making me want to write more and more. So thank you. :)


	2. Mr Snake-ley

_“Hmm, yes,” Aziraphale said. “Yes, quite. Rather a bit of a pickle with that one. I suppose the question is, what are we going to do about young Joshua?”_

_“He can see our wings,” Crowley pointed out. “He really shouldn’t be able to do that.”_

_“No, he shouldn’t, but we’ve both met those over the centuries who can. Children mainly, but also some they called ‘gifted’ or ‘touched’.”_

_“I believe they’re generally referred to as ‘crazy’ or ‘insane’.”_

_“Well, yes, there is that. Then there are animals sometimes too.”_

_“Like that donkey.”_

_Aziraphale pulled a face._

_“But we both know how uncommon it is,” Crowley continued. “Yet here we are, in our new cottage in a little village, and oh look, here’s a boy who can see our wings and your holy glow in the astral plane. Now what’s the chances of that?”_

_Aziraphale looked thoughtful. “You could almost call it… ineffable.”_

*-*-*

After the barbecue, Joshua did not see the angel or the angel’s friend for a while. Not to talk to at least. He saw them a few times out walking though. They had just moved to the village, to the cottage in the corner with the big garden, so it made sense that he should see them around. He just didn’t see them in any way that might have allowed him to be able to talk to them, about wings or anything else.

He didn’t see the wings very much either. For the most part they seemed to be lying flat against each of their backs, tucked away, but they were still there if he looked closely enough.

Once, while they had been walking, they had spotting him, and Mr. Angel had waved at him with the hand that wasn’t holding his friend’s, which was nice. And then his wings had ruffled up, almost as if they were waving to him as well, which was even nicer.

He had waved back, which his mum thought was nice, which was also good.

And he got a sticker for that, because he had been polite and friendly, which was good as well.

But he hadn’t been able to speak to them, which wasn’t so good.

So the next time he really had a chance to talk to them was at the Summer Fete.

Joshua both liked and did not like the fete.

Things he liked about it was that it was outside. It was also usually on the first Saturday after school had stopped for the summer, which meant he now had the whole summer without having to go to school, which was also good*.

_* Not because he didn’t like learning. He liked learning, a lot, it was fun, but school often wanted him to learn about things he didn’t have any interest in, which was less fun. School also meant there were lots of other children around and sometimes that was no fun at all. Sometimes the other children got upset with him and he didn’t know why. Or sometimes they upset him for reasons that other people sometimes didn’t seem to think were the right reasons, which was even more confusing. So Joshua liked the holidays because then his mum would take him to the library and let him pick books that he was interested in, and he wouldn’t have to see all those other children every day._

The fete also had lots of stalls, some of which were interesting, like Hook the Duck, and Splat the Rat, and Guess the Weight of the Sweet Jar. And sometimes there was something interesting at the Bric-a-Brac and the Book Stall. And usually his mum would buy something special from the cake stall as a treat, which was also nice.

What he didn’t like about the fete, though, was all the people. There were often lots and lots and lots of people. Even more than had come to the barbecue. Even more than the village itself as people from other villages came as well. Some people even came from the town.

When he was little, all the noise and people particularly scared him, but it was better now, especially as his mum now thought he was old enough and big enough to wander around it by himself instead of staying with her by her stall. He wasn’t allowed to go very far though, but there was the square*, and the memorial and the church yard, and that was big enough.

_* Which wasn’t actually square._

Certainly big enough for him to be able to find somewhere almost quiet to sit away from all the other people.

At the moment though, he wasn’t sitting in his usual quiet place, he was watching the Amazing Mr. Fell and his Remarkable Magic Act. 

Or at least that was what the big colourful sign said it was.

Usually this was where the clown would have been, but something had apparently happened to their usual clown, so Mr. Angel was here doing some magic instead. 

Or at least trying to do something that might possible pass as magic.

Joshua wasn’t sure that pretending to pull a coin out from behind a little girl’s ear was really magic, but the girl had rather liked it.

Mr. Angel’s wings were fluttering a little bit though, especially when one of the children laughed, so that was nice. He looked different from usual. He wasn’t so yellow. His jacket was black for one, and he had a strange drawing on his face just above his top lip. It made him look odd.

He seemed to be having fun though, which was good. But there were far too many people around him for Joshua to go and talk to him.

Looking round, Joshua realised he wasn’t the only person watching him from afar at the sides.

“He’s not very good,” he said as he went to stand next to Mr. Angel’s friend with the black wings.

“No,” Mr. Angel’s friend said with something that a sort of sounded like a sigh, “he’s not. Which is all sorts of impressive really, considering just how many years he’s been practising.”

They both watched as Mr. Angel tried to do something with a pack of cards only for the cards to end up in a pile on the floor. That at least got a few giggles from the smallest members of the audience. Joshua wasn’t sure that that was what the angel had been meaning to do though.

“But he’s an _angel_. Can’t he do real magic?” he asked the angel’s friend.

“Of course he can,” the friend said, “but he claims this is more _fun_.”

Joshua nodded, pretending as if he understood. He was quite good at nodding like that. There were lots of things he was supposed to understand and he had found it simpler to nod as if he did understand and then try and figure it out by himself later.

“Can you do real magic as well?” he asked as they both watched as the angel tried to pull a rabbit out of a big black hat. The rabbit had obviously been hidden in the table, but it made some of the little children gasp and suddenly there were lot of hands reaching for the fluffy animal.

“I can,” the angel’s friend said.

Joshua nodded again as the angel found himself surrounded by little people with little hands all reaching out to pet the rabbit. 

“Animals are good,” Joshua said. “People like fluffy animals.”

It was more of a statement than anything. Joshua quite like stroking some animals, like the cat from next door when it came into their garden, but his mum had said no to him having a pet. Other people seemed to like animals a lot as well, especially fluffy ones.

The angel’s friend tipped his head to look down at him. “They do, don’t they?” And then he was smiling below his sunglasses and clicked his fingers.

Mr. Angel suddenly looked across at them then, his eyes wide, and then he was looking down at the hat and the table, even as the rabbit was pretty much lifted completely from his grasp by overeager hands.

“And now you’ve met Harry the Rabbit,” Mr. Angel said, peering wide-eyed into his hat, “who else might we have here, but… Percy the guinea pig.”

His reveal of the tri-coloured overly fluffy rodent, was met with further gasps of delight and one or two squeals of happiness from certain children who were overly fond of such fluffy animals.

He was also starting to attract more attention, both from other children who were being drawn from the bouncy castle and various stalls by the lure of fluffiness, and from adults curious as to what was going on. 

The guinea pig, like the rabbit, was quickly liberated from the angel – while under the watchful eye of nearby parents – allowing him to return his attention to his hat, and, in a wider and more important sense, to the table under his hat.

By the time the angel’s hat* was empty, Joshua had counted two rabbits, two guinea pigs, a chinchilla, a hamster, and a rather cute tortoiseshell and white kitten. 

_* Table_

The ever growing crowd around the angel were delighted, little hands doing careful stroking as the rather docile animals were gently passed around. Even the teenagers loitering at the edges were drawn in for cuddles.

Joshua wasn’t sure though if the angel looked happy or something else. 

Then he was coming over.

“Crowley, that was completely irresponsible,” the angel said, his face all unhappy-like even as his wings fluttered behind him.

His friend though was smiling broadly, looking rather pleased with himself.

“Relax, angel,” he said, “the kids love it. And their parents too. Best part of your act by far. And anyway you can’t be mad at me, it was Joshua’s idea.”

Joshua bit his lip and stared at the ground as they both suddenly looked at him. All he had done was say that fluffy animals were good, and now there were lots of fluffy animals and an angel who might not be happy with him, and he must have done something wrong, but he didn’t know what, and the angel might be mad at him, but he couldn’t be certain, and he didn’t want the angel to be mad at him, even if his wings were fluttering still, which should be a good thing, but everything was so confusing and-

“And it was a lovely idea,” the angel said gently as he bent down next to him, but still far enough away that Joshua didn’t feel crowded. “So clever. I wish I had thought of it myself.”

And his wings were fluttering more widely now, so that even though Joshua was looking at the ground he could still see them. 

And they were so pretty.

He looked up slowly. The angel was smiling at him, and, behind him, so was the angel’s friend, who was also holding his thumbs up in what Joshua had previously learnt was a good signal.

“Now, because you have helped to make so many other people happy,” the angel said, “I believe you deserve a reward. And look, what is this?”

The angel’s hand moved and then suddenly there was a coin in it as if he had just pulled it out of Joshua’s ear. He hadn’t of course, he hadn’t been anywhere near Joshua’s ear, and it was the same trick he had watched the angel try on other children earlier, but the angel looked so happy as he held the pound coin out that Joshua smiled despite himself.

Then the angel was pulling, or not pulling, a coin out of his other ear and suddenly Joshua had two pound coins in his hands and an even more pleased angel.

“Oh for sa-he-_goodness_ sake,” the angel’s friend said and then he was leaning closer, but not too close, pretended to run his finger down Joshua’s nose, and then suddenly, half a dozen coloured coins fell into his Joshua’s cupped hand.

“Now that’s more like it,” the angel’s friend said as he moved away.

“Really though,” the angel said as he stood back up smoothing down his jacket.

Joshua wasn’t paying much attention to them though because on top of now having two whole pounds that he could go and spend, he also had six new Pokémon coins that he didn’t even recognise, let alone already have.

Six!

Gipping all the coins tightly in his hand, he looked up at them.

They looked back at him, their wings fluttering slightly behind them in the sunshine.

He knew he should say thank you to them, because that was what you were supposed to do and his mum would want him to. He also wanted to, but the words seemed to get stuck and he found he couldn’t say anything at all.

The angel smiled at him though, crouching down again. “Why don’t you go and put them somewhere safe?” he said kindly. “And what about having a go on the bouncy castle while all the other children are distracted by the animals?”

He nodded. Then nodded again.

Six new Pokémon coins for him to put somewhere safe. And two extra pounds that he could spend on whatever he wanted. 

Thanks to the angel and his friend, this was turning into the best Summer Fete ever!

*

The next time he properly saw the angel and his friend it was down by the lake with the ducks.

It was quite a popular place in the summer, what with it being close to the playground as well. Joshua of course preferred it when there were fewer people around, which unfortunately wasn’t today. But since the people who were there included the angel and his friend it wasn’t all terrible.

The angel though, was already busy talking to people, his wings fluttering slightly in the sunshine. Not that anyone he was talking to were able to see them, but people seemed to want to talk to him anyway. Maybe it was the glow about him again.

While his mum was distracted talking to the angel and the other people, Joshua went to stand next to the angel’s friend. He had a bag of duck food in his hand, which he wordlessly shared so they could both feed the ducks.

“Are you some sort of vampire?” Joshua asked after a long moment.

The angel’s friend tipped his head towards him. Joshua wasn’t sure what his reaction was, partly because he often found it hard to tell and also because of the sunglasses.

“Been a long time since I’ve been accused of being a vampire,” the possible vampire said after a while. “What makes you think I might be?”

Joshua paused because he had been giving it a lot of thought recently. He knew what Mr. Angel was, because that was rather obvious, but Mr. Angel’s friend seemed different. He had wings like the angel, except they were black not white. Like a crow rather than a swan. And the light around him was red rather than white. And he also felt different to Mr. Angel. Not necessarily bad different, just different.

He had also been drawing pictures of the angel’s friend, just like he had drawn pictures of Mr. Angel, but he hadn’t been able to work out what the third picture should be. Extra wings and a flaming sword like Mr. Angel just felt wrong, but he was at a loss as to what it should be. So he had been thinking about what he might be if he wasn’t an angel.

“You’re all black and red,” Joshua said after a moment. “You always wear sunglasses and you don’t eat much.”

Everyone knew that vampires wore black, that they liked red because that was the colour of blood, that they were allergic or sensitive to sunlight, and tended to only drink blood.

The angel’s friend was quiet for a moment as if thinking about it.

They both continued to throw food at the ducks.

“Those are all very good points,” the angel’s friend said finally. “I like your thinking. Aren’t vampires supposed to turn into bats though?”

Joshua had thought about this too. So he gave a little shrug. “Maybe you turn into a crow instead. Like your name.”

Crowley, the angel had called him. Mr. Crowley according to Joshua’s mum.

Maybe it meant something since he had wings like a crow.

The might-be vampire considered this also.

“Would you be disappointed,” he said after a moment, “if I told you that I wasn’t a vampire, a crow turning one or otherwise?”

Joshua wasn’t sure why he would be disappointed, considering that all he wanted to do was figure out who or what the angel’s friend was.

He shook his head.

“I’m not a vampire,” the not-vampire said. “Although that was a very good guess.”

They returned to throwing food to the ducks.

“You’re not an angel though,” Joshua said after a long moment. “Not like Mr. Angel.”

The not-vampire stopped mid throw and looked at him again. Joshua wasn’t sure why, but then he was often unsure about why people did something.

“I’m not an angel,” the not-vampire and apparently not-angel said.

Oh, Joshua thought. Okay.

That was fine as well.

“Why do you always wear sunglasses?” he asked after another moment.

“Well,” the not-vampire, not-angel said, “if most people ask, I tell them it’s because I’m sensitive to light and get terrible headaches if I don’t, but do you want to see the true reason why I wear them?”

Joshua looked back at him and nodded.

Crouching down, the not-vampire, not-angel said, “You promise not to tell anyone though?”

Joshua hesitated for a moment because his mum had always said that if someone said something like that to him then he should tell his parents exactly what he had be asked to promise not to say, but this seemed different from what he thought his mum had meant by whatever it was she had really meant.

“Is this like the wings?” he said after a moment.

Mr. Angel’s friend nodded. “Just like the wings.”

Which probably meant that no one would believe him even if he did tell them, Joshua decided.

“Okay,” he said.

The not-vampire, not-angel paused for a moment, then he was moving his sunglasses down his nose so he could look over the top.

Orange eyes*, he realised. Mr. Angel’s friend had bright orange eyes, but instead of having a black circle in the middle like everyone else, he had a black downwards slit instead. It was sort of pretty. Different, but pretty.

_* Technically more gold or amber depending upon the light, but Joshua tended to view colours through the lens of his colouring pencils, so to him they were orange._

Then he was sliding the sunglasses back up and the eyes were gone.

It _was_ just like the wings, Joshua realised. No one would believe him if he told them that the new neighbour in the village had orange slit eyes like a cat or something.

Did cats have eyes like that?

Maybe it was another type of animal who had eyes like that?

“Joshua, two minutes and then we have to go,” his mum suddenly said. “So finish feeding the ducks and say goodbye to Mr. Crowley.”

Mr. Crowley held out the bag of duck food which was somehow still half full despite how long they had spent throwing the food. Taking another handful, Joshua threw it carefully in bits to the ducks, although the ducks were starting to look a little less interested in the food now. They had probably had enough.

“I like your eyes,” he said after he had finished throwing his handful.

The not-vampire looked at him, his body very still, but his wings twitched slightly behind him.

“Thank you,” the not-vampire said softly, and then it was time for Joshua to go.

“What were you talking to Mr. Crowley about?” his mum asked as they walked toward home.

Joshua shrugged. “Ducks,” he said after a moment. “And crows. And wings.”

*

“Are you a dragon?”

If the angel’s friend wasn’t an angel and wasn’t a vampire, and had black wings and strange eyes and could do magic, then he had to be something. The question, Joshua found himself wondering, was what?

He probably wasn’t a fairy or a pixie, or a werewolf or a unicorn. He was also nice, so he wouldn’t be some sort of bad monster, which had left Joshua with dragon.

Dragons had wings. Dragons had funny eyes. Dragons could even probably do magic. 

Lots of dragons were black as well, and had scales, like the not-angel’s shoes.

Dragons also liked treasure and according to what Joshua had heard about Mr. Angel and his possible dragon, they had lots of treasure in their cottage. Or at least, they had a lot of money, which was probably the same thing. Certainly Mr. Angel had pulled a lot of coins out of a lot of ears at the fete, so the lot of money thing was probably true. And the friend had given him those Pokémon coins, which could also be considered treasure.

And Mr. Angel could have turned Mr. Possibly-a-dragon into human form so he could have a friend to talk to and hold hands with. Except maybe he couldn’t do anything about the eyes. Or maybe he liked the eyes too much, so he didn’t want to change them. And Mr. Possibly-a-dragon did have a dragon-like way about him with the way he moved sometimes, and maybe his red hair was because he could no longer breathe fire in this form.

So armed with his new theory, once allowed out to play on his own, he went round to Eden Cottage to see if the angel and the possible dragon were there.

Mr. Not-an-angel-but-possibly-a-dragon was in the garden.

He didn’t particularly look much like a dragon at that moment, but then again he was shaking a pair of big garden scissors and hissing something to a plant. The plant, though, didn’t look as if it liked being hissed at. Joshua didn’t blame it. He wouldn’t have liked to have been hissed at either.

Climbing up onto the wall, he watched quietly for a moment. The black wings were there but were tucked firmly away. They looked quite pretty in the sunlight though. There were hints of blue and turquoise and even red hidden amongst the black.

Honestly he could have stayed there for ages just looking at the wings, but he was spotted and suddenly he was being greeted and smiled at.

Taking that as an invitation, he hopped down from the wall and crossed over to where the angel’s friend was now standing. Motioning him to lean down a little because he really was quite tall, that was when he asked his question.

“A dragon?” the possible-dragon asked.

Joshua nodded.

The possible-dragon’s eyebrows raised high above his sunglasses. “I can honestly say,” he said, “that in six thousand years, you’re the first person to have ever asked me that.”

Joshua waited, because that wasn’t exactly an answer.

“What made you think I might be a dragon?” 

Joshua explained about the wings, and the eyes, and the whole black and red thing, and the money, and the magic.

Mr. Possibly-a-dragon’s eyebrows continued to stay raised.

“Huh,” he said finally. “You might actually have a point there. I mean, I’m not a dragon, although I did once breathe fire at some rather mean angels, but I’m not actually a dragon. Would be rather cool though, being able to turn into a great big, fire breathing, treasure hoarding, flying serpent.” 

That did sound rather fun actually.

“I’m not though,” Mr. Apparently-not-a-dragon said. “More the pity. Good guess though.”

Joshua frowned because if Mr. Not-a-vampire, not-an-angel was also not-a-dragon, then his list of things that he wasn’t was getting rather long and he was no closer to figuring out what Mr. Angel’s friend actually was.

It was at this point that Mr. Angel came out the house, all yellow like sunshine, and having greeting him with a bright smile offered him some homemade apple juice which was different from the stuff his mum sometimes allowed him to have.

“That would be the cinnamon,” the angel said. “I’ve been experimenting.”

Joshua quite liked the experimenting.

“Young Master Hargreaves here thought I might be a dragon,” Mr. Not-a-dragon told the angel.

“Goodness,” said the angel. “Well, you are rather reptilian, my dear. I’m surprised no one has postulated that before.”

Mr. Not-a-dragon grinned.

Joshua sipped his drink feeling surprisingly happy. Even if he hadn’t been right about the dragon thing he had been right about the angel thing and he would probably work out what Mr. Not-a-dragon was eventually, so that would be alright as well. And this was nice. Listening to Mr. Angel and Mr. Angel’s friend talk was nice, even if he didn’t always understand what they were saying. 

“Now, Joshua,” the angel said, picking up his own glass of juice, “why don’t you tell me about the books you have borrowed from the library this week.” 

*

The weather was good, so he went back the next day. 

And then the next day. 

And then the next. 

He didn’t have any new theories as to what Mr. Angel’s friend might be, but that didn’t seem to matter. The angel and his friend always seemed pleased to see him. Mr. Angel listened to him talk about his Pokémon or his books, and Mr. Not-An-Angel let him help with the plants. Sometimes he even brought his books or things with him and they left him alone with them while they got on with whatever it was an angel and a not-angel got on with.

It was fun. It was also good to get out of the house. His mum was acting strangely and it was unsettling.

The angel and his friend, however, were perfectly normal.

“You should get an alpaca,” he said, nibbling at the plum crumble biscuit thing that the angel had apparently been recently experimenting with. It was actually quite good. The angel had looked so happy when he had told him that. His wings had fluttered and everything.

“An alpaca?” the angel said with a look of what Joshua thought was surprise.

Joshua nodded.

The garden was nice where they were sitting. The grass was short and very green, the pathway was now clear of weeds and the bushes had been trimmed back so you could see more. Mr. Crowley had been working hard, but there were still lots of things that needed to be done, especially since he did not appear to have a lawnmower. The other end of the garden, for instance, still looked completely wild with long grass that was almost as tall as him and funny plants that probably shouldn’t be there. At least Joshua didn’t remember them being there when the old man had lived here, but that had been ever such a long time ago now. He had been a lot smaller then. And the old man had been nice but not nearly as interesting as the angel and his friend.

“What would we do with an alpaca?” the angel’s friend asked, coming across to the table from where he had been sternly talking to a rose bush*.

_*Which was one thing that made complete sense to Joshua. Why shouldn’t you tell the rose bush why it was being chopped back, where it had been going wrong and what it was supposed to do instead? People did that to him all the time. If it was supposed to make him a better person, maybe the same thing would make the rose bush a better rose bush. And it was better than being hissed at and threatened with by a large pair of garden scissors._

“Nothing,” Joshua said with a frown, because he rather thought that was obvious. An alpaca was an alpaca, you didn’t _do_ anything with it. It wasn’t as if you dressed it up or took it for walks through the village.*

_*Unless you were Mrs Peterson, but even his mum thought Mrs Peterson was a little bit strange._

The whole point of having an alpaca is that it did stuff _for_ you. Namely that it ate all the things you didn’t want in your garden*.

_*And if you weren’t careful, some of the things you did want as well, but that was more your fault than the alpaca’s. You should have made yourself clearer if you did not want the alpaca eating your favourite hydrangeas._

He explained all of this between bites of the biscuit crumble thing.

“That’s, that’ssss actually not a terrible idea,” Mr. Not-an-angel said after he’d finished, looking first at Joshua and then at his angel. “Would certainly sssolve the problem of the wider garden.”

“I could re-learn how to spin the wool,” the angel said, his wings arching up behind him.

“The droppings would be make great fertiliser as well.”

“Then I could make things with it.”

“Wouldn’t be too hard to keep.”

“So incredibly soft.”

“Not exactly intelligent creatures.”

“I could make you a jumper, for when it gets cold.”

“Would need a sssmall hut or something to keep it in though.” 

“Something warm and cosy.”

“Yes, exactly! Warm and cosy, for when it rains.”

“Oh I’m so glad you agree!”

“Of course I- hold on a moment, did you just sssssay _jumper_?”

And just like that Joshua finally saw it. It was just at that moment that it all clicked, when he saw a flash of orange behind the tinted lenses, the flick of a tongue over an elongated ‘s’ sound, and the tattoo by the hair line that he hadn’t really paid much attention to before, which was silly, because it was all so obvious now that he saw it. 

Really, really obvious.

Like really, really, _really_ obvious.

It was even in his book and everything.

Jumping down from his chair, he ran across to where his Pokémon book lay, and grabbing it, he raced back, hunting for the page as he went.

There it was. 

There it was!

Slamming the book down onto the table in a way his mum would have told him off about, he quickly but firmly pointed to the purple and yellow curled up form of the Ekans.

“You,” he said simply. “That’s you! You’re a snake!”

Mr. Not-an-angel even had the same sort of eyes as the Ekans; gold with a black line down the centre. He knew he had seen those eyes somewhere before.

“Oh well done, Joshua,” the angel said after the pause. “You’ve figured it out, and all by yourself.”

So he was right.

He was right.

“There’s a Pokémon that’s a snake,” Mr. Probably-A-Snake said. “A ssssnake Pokémon.”

Of course there was, there were Pokémon of all sorts of animals.

“It’s purple though.”

Joshua nodded.

“Do I look like a purple sort of person? Sort of snake?”

Joshua narrowed his eyes then shook his head. “Black,” he said quite firmly. Then frowned as he considered it further. “Black with red. And bigger.”

“Oh, exactly right again,” Mr. Angel said with delight and a small clap.

“Black with red and bigger!” Mr. Snake said, but he was smiling beneath his sunglasses and his wings sort of looked happy as well.

*

“Here,” the angel said, as he packed up the table ready for it to be put wherever it was it needed to be put. “Why don’t you take a few of these plum goodies home for your mum. They might cheer her up a bit. Tell her they’re made from digestive biscuits and vegan yoghurt, so very healthy.”

Joshua nodded as he accepted the wrapped tub of plum biscuit crumble thing.

“Remember,” Mr. Snake said, pulling down his sunglasses a bit so that his orange eyes could be seen. “The snake thing, our little secret. Like with the wings. Not because it’s bad, but because our true forms are supposed to be a secret. No one is supposed to know.”

Joshua nodded thoughtfully.

He wandered home.

“There you are, darling,” his mum said.

She looked tired.

“Have you been having fun?”

He nodded and handed over the wrapped tub. “Mr. Angel says to tell you they are healthy. Vegan yoghurt and digestive biscuits.”

Job done, he went over to where his Pokémon pencil case was and started to get out his pictures and pencils. He could hear his parents talking in hushed voices behind him, but ignored them in favour of lining his pencils up in the right order.

“Joshua.”

He looked up as his dad came to crouch down near him.

“Is that where you’ve been going each day? To see Mr. Fell and Mr. Crowley, the new neighbours?”

He knew who the new neighbours were.

“They’re nice,” he said as he reached for his Pokémon book to find the right page. “Simple.”

Simple wasn’t quite the right word, but Joshua lacked the vocabulary that might have allowed him to explain to his parents that he found the angel and his friend a calming and soothing influence on his mind. Things seemed to make sense more when they were around, and they were never confusing, or complicated, and they didn’t make him feel _different_. If anything it was as if they understood. Understood what it was like to be him in his world. Understood what it was like to not fully understand why people did things that they did. Understood what it was like to be _different_. 

It was nice.

He found the page with the Ekans on it.

His parents were talking to each other again, slightly less hushed this time.

“Crowley _was_ apparently a nanny remember-”

“But what if?-”

“You’re only saying that because they’re _you know_-”

“No! Yes, but, what do we really know about them? Really?-”

The next thing he knew, Mr. Angel and his friend were being invited over for tea.

Not many people ever got invited over for tea. It was probably because they were special.

*

“It’s so kind of you to invite us.”

Joshua had been waiting for them.

It wasn’t as if they were late, more that he had been early, so he had taken a seat on the stairs and decided to wait for them there. His dad had tried to talk to him about it, but his mum had only shaken her head and then hurried off into another room.

Finally they were here though.

He stood up as they came in. Their wings fluttered slightly as if in greeting.

They had tea and sandwiches and crisps and little sausages and some of those special foods that only his mum seemed to make.

It was nice. A little strange. Joshua wasn’t used to having both his parents and Mr. Angel and Mr. Angel’s friend in the same place at the same time. He wasn’t sure what he should say, so he didn’t say anything. It was okay though, because Mr. Angel was good at talking. He even managed to make Joshua’s mum look happier. Maybe it was part of the angel thing?

“Why don’t you show Mr. Fell some of your drawings,” his mum said after they had finished eating.

Nodding, he hurried back with his latest pile. He liked his latest picture in particular. He had managed to get some black paper, so the wings really stood out on it, all big and bright.

“Oh no, not those ones,” his mum said quickly, but then seemed to stop as Mr. Angel started to look at them.

“I’m so sorry,” she said quickly. “He seems to have got it into his head that you’re a real angel.”

“Has he now?” Mr. Angel’s friend said, tipping his head in Joshua’s direction. “I wonder where he’s got that from.”

“Oh it’s quite alright,” Mr. Angel said instead. “It’s rather sweet actually, and these are really lovely pictures. I particularly like the wings.”

Joshua ducked his head to look at the floor, but not before smiling back at him.

“He seems rather fixated on you at the moment,” his mum added. “We didn’t realise how often he went to see you. We hope he hasn’t been making a nuisance of himself.”

“A nuisance?” Mr. Angel said, a small frown on his face. “Oh no, no, no. He’s been quite wonderful in fact. And he’s been so helpful around the garden. He suggested we should get an alpaca.”

“An alpaca?”

“Oh yes. And we thought it such a wonderful idea we’ve actually gone to look at some and now we’re now getting two.” 

“You’re getting _two_ alpacas?” Joshua’s dad asked as he came in with the drinks.

“Oh yes,” Mr. Angel continued. “And they’re just smashing. But we wouldn’t have even thought of it without young Joshua. And he’s also been telling us all about these _Pokémon_. Fascinating things. He knows so much about them by heart. And he’s so _passionate_ about them.”

“You… don’t mind?” Joshua’s mum asked.

“Mind?” the angel said as he accepted the drink. “Oh no, no, no. No, of course not. You can’t blame a child for having an interest in something. In fact I’ve always said that one of the saddest things about growing up is that we feel as if we should hide our passions away, or else conceal them within interests that the majority of people consider more normal. Like television, or the acquisition of the latest clothing or technology, or, or that sport that where they spend all the time chasing after that ball.”

“Football, angel.”

“Oh yes, football. I’ve met some rather passionate fans of that. To think that all started after a suggestion to find something for men to do after their Saturday half day that didn’t involve drinking away their weekly wages.

“And Joshua’s really no trouble at all. Sometimes he reads, or draws, or plays a game. Sometimes he helps me pick the fruits or helps Crowley pull out the weeds. He’s been learning all sorts of things, and he’s so very clever. Just look at these pictures. So talented. In fact, Crowley, I believe this is one for you.”

Joshua had a feeling he knew even without looking up which picture Mr. Angel was referring to.

“Oh look, so it is,” Mr. Angel’s friend said as he took the picture. “And it looks just like me as well. I swear Leonardo could hardly have done better.”

Joshua didn’t know who Leonardo was, but he knew that the picture they were talking about was the one in three forms, just like Mr. Angel’s one, except this time the third form was a large, partially curled black and red snake. 

He looked up briefly to find his new friend looking at him, the slightest hint of orange peeking above his sunglasses, and then he was smiling broadly, his wings stretching slightly behind him, before they both looked down at the pictures and the words above it where Joshua had carefully written the name, _MR SNAKE-LEY_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The football thing, totally true. The Factory Act 1850 introduced a restriction on Saturday working hours, which meant that factories could no longer keep their staff any later than 2pm on a Saturday. Problem was, a lot of men now didn’t know what to do with their free time, so turned to drink. It was churches who then initially began forming football teams to give them an alternative means of entertainment. Even to this day, the traditional 3pm Saturday match kick of time also comes from the initial restricted working hours. 
> 
> Several clubs also retain links to their religious origins. Southampton F.C. has been nicknamed “The Saints” since inception in 1885 due to having been founded as St. Mary’s Church of England Young Men’s Association.
> 
> Arthur Connell was the rector of St. Mark’s Church in West Gorton in Manchester. His daughter helped set up St. Marks Church football team. This team is known today as Manchester City.
> 
> Other clubs with religious origin links include Aston Villa (Villa Cross Wesleyan Chapel), Bolton Wanderers (Christ Church F.C.), Everton (St. Domingo F.C. - Methodist) and Wolverhampton Wanderers (St. Lukes F.C.).
> 
> Hilariously, one of the most successful English team of all time is Manchester United, also known as the Red Devils. If that wasn’t Crowley’s doing in his pride and joy of a city then I don’t know what is. :)


	3. Angel Space

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a longer than expected delay for this part, caused by all the usual things; life, work, weddings, social life, exhaustion, becoming overly emotional while writing this part....
> 
> Warning, some angst in this part, and some moments that may hit close to home for some people, but I wouldn't dare give this story anything but a happy ending.

_“So we’re agreed then,” Aziraphale said after a moment. “We do nothing.”_

_Crowley shrugged. “It’s not as if he’s going to be telling everybody. No one would believe him anyway.”_

_“It does seem cruel to take the gift away from him. He likes them so much and was so nice about them. And it might come in useful. She might have meant for all of this to be part of Her Plan.”_

_Crowley grinned at him. “And who are we to go against Her_ Ineffable Plan_?”_

*-*-*

Everything changed after Mr. Angel and Mr. Snake-ley came for tea. Joshua wasn’t too sure why it had changed, and normally he didn’t like change, but this was a good change, so he was happy.

He liked being happy.

He was happy because his mum and dad told him he could continue to go and visit Mr. Angel and Mr. Snake-ley* at the corner cottage. Which was good, because he liked going to visit Mr. Angel and Mr. Snake-ley at the corner cottage. They were nice, and interesting, and had wings, and they thought he was nice and interesting, even if he didn’t have wings, and that was all good.

_*Snake-ley? Snakeley? Snekley?_

What was less good, though, was what his mum had then gone on to tell him.

Yes, he could still go and visit Mr. Angel and Mr. Snake-ley, but he also needed to understand that just because _he_ wanted to see them did not mean _they_ would always want to see him. Just because he wanted to talk to them did not mean that they would always have time to talk to him. Mr. Angel and Mr. Snake-ley were grown-up people, his mum explained, and sometimes grown-up people did not always want an eight year old boy turning up unannounced all the time, even if the said eight year old was going to be nine in a few months. 

Grown-up people liked their own space, his dad tried to explain, and so it was unfair for Joshua to just presume that he would be allowed into theirs whenever he wanted. So he should not be upset if Mr. Angel and Mr. Snake-ley were not at home when he went round there, or if they were too busy to talk to him, or if they told him that right now was not a good time for him to be there. If that happened, he should simply accept it and go and find something else to do instead.

Both of his parents were rather insistent on that last part. Apparently it was because it was important.

So Joshua listened to everything his parents had to say and nodded when he was asked if he understood.

The next day he went back to the old cottage on the corner.

“Why of course you are always welcome to come around here,” Mr. Angel said when he told them what his parents had said. “And you don’t have to worry that we don’t want you here. We like having you here. But we also promise to always tell you if it is not a good time for you to be here, or if we think it’s time for you to go home, or if we think you should go and do something else. There’s no need for you to worry yourself about that. We will always be completed honest with you. No pretence. No need to make the world more complicated than it already is.”

No need to worry.

No need to worry.

No need to worry.

Joshua scrunched his eyes closed and breathed deeply, because he _had_ been worried.

He _had_ been so worried that maybe he shouldn’t have been coming round so often, or that maybe Mr. Angel and Mr. Snake-ley were only pretending to like him, and he so liked going to see them because they were simple, and easy, and everything made more sense around them, and if that was taken away from him then maybe nothing would make sense again, and he couldn’t bear the idea of nothing making sense, it would be like having all his colouring pencils in the wrong order and not being able to put them in the right order, and that would just be wrong, so wrong, and he didn’t want his parents to be right about this, especially since he was the only one who knew who or what Mr. Angel and Mr. Snake-ley really were, which meant that he was special, but special in a good way for once and, and, and-

He pulled his knees up to his chin and wrapped his arms around his head and blocked out all the sights and the sounds until all he had was his breathing, and then he concentrated on his breathing, in out, in out, in out, until everything else faded away and he was okay and he was okay and he was okay.

His eyes felt clammy and his face wet when he finally let his arms drop.

Why was his face wet?

There was a throbbing feeling from his hands and holding them out he realised he had managed to scratch up the backs of both of his hands, although he had no recollection of doing so. He also did not know for how long he had been having whatever it was he had been having. Neither Mr. Angel nor Mr. Snake-ley were sitting with him anymore, although he could feel that they were near, and there was a new bowl on the garden table next to him filled with what turned out to be raspberries. 

They might even have been some of the raspberries had had helped Mr. Snake-ley to pick one of the other times he had been here.

Also there was a glass of water, still cold.

He ate a raspberry, because he liked raspberries, and sipped at the water. He also scrubbed at his eyes. They felt funny.

His mum wouldn’t be happy about his hands though. She would ask him what had happened. Since he had become distressed enough to hurt himself, she might even stop him from visiting.

He didn’t want to stop visiting.

He scrubbed more at his eyes.

“Those look a little sore.”

He took his hands away from his eyes to find the angel standing nearby, all glowey despite the sun being only partly out. All yellow and shiny. It was pretty.

“May I?”

Mr. Angel seemed to motion to the hands and confused Joshua slowly held them out. He hadn’t managed to break the skin this time, but there were definite red and white lines, some of them quite deep and definitely quite sore.

Then the angel was moving his own hand over but not touching them and then both the pain and the lines had disappeared.

Magic, Joshua realised. Real magic.

“There you go,” the angel said soothingly. “All better for now. No real harm done.”

Angels could make people better, that’s what the book he had found in the library had said. They could also be messengers, or guardians, or helpers as well. But they could also make people better.

He hadn’t been able to find anything on people who were also snakes, but there had been quite a bit about angels.

“Now, Crowley’s down checking the area where the alpacas are going to go. Why don’t you take that bowl of raspberries and see if he would like any. You’re also free to eat as many or as little of them as you would like.”

That sounded like a good idea.

Slipping from the chair, he carefully took the bowl and made his way down the winding garden path.

The end of the garden was still very overgrown, so he had to be careful. The apple trees were doing well though, which had made Mr. Angel happy. There were going to be lots more apples for his special apple juice. Which was good. It was very nice apple juice.

Mr Snake-ley had been busy as well. Even though most of the area was still very overgrown with some of the grass past Joshua’s waist, there was now a clear space against one of the walls. That was probably where the alpacas were going to live, Joshua decided. It was a good space. It was sheltered by the trees nearby, and there was plenty for them to eat.*

_*Provided they did not eat the apples or the apple trees. Joshua didn’t think that Mr. Angel would be happy if his apples got eaten. Mr. Snake-ley would know that though, so he probably wouldn’t let the alpacas get too close. _

Mr Snake-ley looked at him but didn’t say anything when he got there, which was nice, but he did take a raspberry from the bowl to eat.

Joshua watched as Mr Snake-ley then carefully laid out some flags in the newly cleared area, and then satisfied, came back to eat another raspberry. It didn’t take long for all the flags to be laid out in the right place and all the raspberries to be eaten. After that they returned to the top part of the garden.

Mr. Angel was reading when they came back. There was a jug and three glasses of juice in front of him as well, still cold. It was apple with cinnamon again and still nice.

It was sunny at this end of the garden, very sunny now, and Mr Snake-ley laid his chair back, stretched himself and then closed his eyes. It was all very snake-like, Joshua thought. One of the books he had got from the library that week was about snakes. It was very interesting.

In fact-

Hopping down from his seat, Joshua ran back to his house. Having found the books he ran back to the corner cottage and retook his seat. Mr. Snake-ley was still lying in the sun and Mr. Angel was still reading his book. There was more juice in his glass though, which was good, because all that running had made Joshua thirsty, so he drank from his now re-filled glass and settled down to read more about snakes.

And if he got bored with that book, well, then, he had bought the book about angels with him as well.

*

No good thing could last forever though, and that summer was no different, despite Joshua wanting otherwise.

On the surface it looked like any other summer he could remember. He and his parents did all the usual things; went to the library to get books out, went on holiday to the usual place in Wales that he liked, went to visit Granny and Granddad. 

But between all of that there was Mr. Angel and Mr. Snake-ley and the cottage at the corner, and that was what had made it different.

That was what had made it such a good summer, even when it rained.

Then, before he knew it, it was time to go back to school.

Joshua knew he had to go to school, it had been explained to him many times, but that didn’t mean he had to like it though. 

After having spent so much time at the corner cottage where Mr. Angel and Mr. Snake-ley were always patient and seemed to understand him, going back to school with all the noise and confusion and the children who either laughed at him or ignored him, was a bit of a shock. 

Perhaps an even bigger shock than usual, because now he knew things could be different.

Maybe that was why it was a more difficult time than usual. Maybe that was why he grew frustrated more easily. Maybe that was why he wasn’t so happy.

Going back to school also meant that he didn’t get to see Mr. Angel and Mr. Snake-ley much anymore either. 

And that wasn’t good.

He liked seeing Mr. Angel and Mr. Snake-ley, so not seeing them made him sad.

On good days, one or both of them might be in their garden when Joshua and his mum passed on their way home from school. Those were good days because then he would usually be allowed to stop and talk to them.

Sometimes his mum even left him with them, but told him what time she wanted him home by. Those were the very best days, but they didn’t happen as often as he wanted. 

And sometimes they weren’t there at all, and he wasn’t allowed to go and knock on their door, even if Mr Snake-ley’s car was there. Those weren’t very good days. Days like that made him sad.

Then there were Saturdays.

Sometimes he got to see them on a Saturday and that was his very favourite time.

Mr. Angel would tell his mum if Joshua could come round that Saturday and they would then agree on a time – usually in the morning – and then Joshua would go round and get to sit in the cottage itself as it was now getting too cold to sit outside, and he would take his books, or do his homework, or Mr. Angel would ask him more about Pokémon, and they would sit and talk, or sit and not talk, and sometimes he would help Mr. Snake-ley water his plants, and there was always something interesting to eat as a snack as Mr. Angel was apparently still experimenting*, and Joshua liked the way the angel’s wings ruffled when Joshua said something was particularly good, or the way he would get a determined look on his face when Joshua said it could be better.

_*All healthy snacks as Aziraphale was mindful that there were things that Joshua wasn’t supposed to have. _

Saturdays like that were the best.

Not only did he get to see Mr. Angel and Mr. Snake-ley, which was good, but it also got him out of the house and away from his mum, who was still acting strangely, even though Joshua now knew why. 

It had taken all of the summer, but just before going back to school his mum and dad had finally sat him down and explained why his mum had been acting so strangely, and although Joshua understood it in theory, he also knew that it meant change was coming, and change made him uneasy, so being away from mum, and her strangeness, and the coming change made him feel better. 

And being around Mr. Angel and Mr. Snake-ley made him feel less out of control, and let him believe that everything was and would be alright.

But there were still lots of things he couldn’t control. 

He couldn’t control the children at school, or the noise and chaos that they brought. He couldn’t control the way the adults would sometimes look at him with frowns and shaking heads. He couldn’t control the way his new teacher spoke to him, or the way she tried to get him to do certain things, or the way she made him feel.

And it turned out, he also still couldn’t control the way he acted when everything finally became too much.

And it did all finally become too much.

Pulling his knees up, he covered his ears and buried his head in his lap so he couldn’t see or hear anything, and he stayed like that, rocking backwards and forwards until everything became a little less loud, a little less sharp, a little less everything. 

He stayed like that until they left him alone, until he stopped screaming, until he stopped feeling _everything_.

He stayed like that until they stopped whispering, until they stopped pointing, and until finally, _finally_ his mum came to collect him. She took him to the car rather than walk him home, but that didn’t stop him from still hearing it, from the looks and the whispers, from the simple fact that they were right, everyone who had been saying things were right, that since his parents already had a child like him, why would they risk having another?

*

They drove past the little cottage on the corner. Mr. Snake-ley’s car was in the driveway, the new alpacas were out eating the grass, but still they drove past.

His mum was going to have another baby.

That was why she had been acting strangely all summer. He was going to have a baby brother or sister. Not now, but in the new year, near spring, when the daffodils, and the tulips, and the snakes head fritillaries he had just helped Mr. Snake-ley to plant would be up and flowering. 

He was going to have a baby brother or sister which meant that everything would be changing.

Everything would change.

But it wasn’t the change that scared him.

He went to his room when they got home. His mum tried to talk to him, but then her face just seemed to crumple and he was allowed to go.

He didn’t want to do any drawing when he got to his room though. Or any reading. Or make anything out of his Lego.

He didn’t want think about what he had heard the other people saying either, but that was all that he seemed to be able to do.

What if the baby was just like him?

What if the baby _was_ just like him?

He knew he was different, special, and he also knew that that wasn’t really a good thing, because otherwise his mum wouldn’t be upset all the time, and they wouldn’t be so worried, and he wouldn’t have to hear words like ‘accident’, and ‘not planned’, and maybe his mum would be happier, because you were supposed to be happy when you have a baby, but not if you were worried that your baby would be wrong.

Just like he was.

*

He had a plan.

His mum and dad were trying not to shout at each other again, something they had been doing a lot of recently, so they didn’t notice as he quietly crept down the stairs. After that it didn’t take much to open the front door and slip out.

He had a plan.

He shivered in the cool air, but it was already too late because he had closed the door behind him, and anyway, he had a plan.

He had a plan.

He ran to the familiar cottage on the corner, glad to see that the car was still there and the lights were on.

He had a plan.

He knocked on the door.

He had a plan.

“Joshua,” the angel said, a broad smile on his face as he opened the door. “What are you doing here? And without a coat on?”

He had a plan. 

He had a plan. 

He had a plan.

“Please,” he said, forcing himself to speak, because this was his plan and his only plan. “I need to be better. You’re an angel. You make people better. Please… make me better.”

This was his plan.

And then he started to shake.

*

The cottage was warm and cosy and calm. 

He hugged the special Pokémon mug they had for him. It currently had hot chocolate in it.

The hot chocolate was nice. It was Mr. Angel’s special recipe. 

The mug was nice too. It was shaped like a pokéball. Half red, half white and curved like a ball.

They had seen it in a shop and thought of him, for when he came round. A special mug, just for him.

That was nice too.

He wasn’t shaking as much now and his eyes weren’t stinging as much either.

He sipped more of the hot chocolate.

Mr. Angel had hot chocolate as well, except his was in his white, angel winged mug, because he was an angel.

Mr. Angel was also now sitting in his own chair nearby. Mr. Snake-ley was standing near him, although he wasn’t drinking hot chocolate.

Both of them were looking at him.

He continued to look at the floor.

“Now, my dear boy,” Mr. Angel said in a gentle voice, “are you feeling a little better now?”

Joshua nodded. Because he was. Maybe it was the hot chocolate, or maybe it was the mug, or maybe it was simply because Mr. Angel was an angel and he always felt better when Mr. Angel was around.*

_*And Mr. Snake-ley, but in a slightly different way. _

“That’s wonderful,” Mr. Angel said. “Now, why don’t you tell us everything that is the matter?”

So he did, slowly and haltingly. 

He told them about his mum and the baby, and how his mum had been acting strangely all through the summer, and that it was all because of the baby she was having, which meant he was going to have a new baby brother or sister at the same sort of time that Mr. Snake-leys flowers were all going to come up in the spring, and that he wasn’t against having a new baby brother or sister, but that it meant there would be change and he didn’t do so well with change, and everyone knew he didn’t do well with change, and that everyone knew that that was because he was different, and he knew he was different, and he didn’t usually mind being different, but he didn’t want to be different any more, he wanted to be normal, like everyone else, because then there wouldn’t be anything wrong with the baby and his mum would stop crying and his dad would stop being angry, and he would stop being such a problem, and everything would be fine again. So please, please, _please_, could they make him better?

“Oh, Joshua,” the angel said after he had finally finished, and Joshua finally looked up at him to find that his eyes were all sad, and his wings were all not fluttering, and Mr. Snake-ley had a strange expression as well, and his wings weren’t fluttering either, which meant that Joshua had now made them sad, and he hadn’t meant to make them sad, and it was probably because he was different, and he didn’t understand, and-

“Oh, my dear, _dear_ boy.” 

And suddenly the angel was sitting next to him, and Mr. Snake-ley was crouching near him, but not too near, and he could feel them, but in a good way, and then their wings were unfurling, reaching for him, and then it was like their wings were hugging him, white on one side, black on the other, and it was so nice that he started to cry again, so the wings hugged him more until he had no more tears and everything was feeling that little bit better.

“Here, use this,” the angel said, and Joshua took the handkerchief to wipe his eyes with and blow his nose on, and that made him feel a little better as well, but it still wasn’t what he had come here for.

“You’re an angel,” he said as he stared at the wings that had been stitched into the corner of the handkerchief. “You make people better. You made my hands better. Please make me better.”

“Oh, my dear boy,” the angel said again. “Of course I would make you better if I could,” he said, “but I can’t, because there is nothing wrong with you.”

But there had to be.

“But I’m _different_,” Joshua said. 

And different in a not good way. In a _wrong_ way.

“Yes, you are different,” the angel said, “but that doesn’t mean that you’re _wrong_. Crowley and I are different too, but we’re not wrong either.”

“But you’re an angel,” he whispered. 

“Indeed I am,” the angel said, “and Crowley here is technically a demon, but that doesn’t mean that we’re not different from the other angels and demons. In fact, we are very different, but that doesn’t mean that we’re wrong, and you’re not wrong either.”

“But I’m different,” he said. “I don’t want to be _different_ anymore.”

“Oh my dear boy,” the angel said kindly, “that’s the difficult part. Being _different_ isn’t always easy, but it can be good.” 

It didn’t feel good.

“You can see our wings, can’t you?” Mr. Snake-ley suddenly asked.

Joshua nodded. “S’nice.”

“Thank you,” Mr. Angel said, his wings fluttering again.

“Well, you wouldn’t be able to see them if you weren’t different,” Mr. Snake-ley continued. “Normal people can’t see them at all. You can see them though, _because_ you’re different. And that’s a good thing.”

Joshua looked back down at the handkerchief, his fingers tracing over the angel wings. He did like the wings. He liked being able to see them. And he even liked knowing that he was the only one around who could see them. It was as if they were something just for him.

It was nice having something so special that was just for him.

“I make my mum sad,” he said finally. “I don’t want her to be sad.”

“Oh, Joshua,” the angel said, “that is something for your mum to worry about, not you. And you don’t make her sad. You make her happy. There are other things that make her sad, but not you. Do you understand?”

Joshua nodded slowly, because if the angel said it then it must be true. But that didn’t solve all of the other problems, namely all those people who had been saying all those things about him, his mum and the baby.

“But what if- what if the baby’s like me,” he said between sniffs.

“Oh well,” Mr. Angel said with one of his understanding smiles, “that would hardly be a bad thing, because you are such a lovely, caring, talented young man. And your brother or sister will be doubly lucky as well, because they will have you for a big brother caring, loving and looking out for them. Isn’t that right, Crowley?”

It looked as if Mr. Snake-ley was going to say something, but then his head turned as something suddenly buzzed from the coffee table. It was Mr. Snake-ley’s mobile, Joshua realised. He knew it was Mr. Snake-ley’s mobile because it had a picture of Mr. Angel on it. Mr Snake-ley had lots of pictures of Mr. Angel on it.

The mobile buzzed again, moving slightly against the wood.

Then it buzzed again. 

And again.

And again.

Mr. Snake-ley’s eyebrows drew together as he moved to pick up the phone and then flicked through whatever it was his phone was showing him.

Joshua had a bad feeling that he knew exactly what the phone was showing him. 

“Crowley?” the angel asked.

Oh dear, Joshua thought as Mr. Snake-ley suddenly looked at him.

“Uh, Joshua,” Mr. Snake-ley said slowly, “do your parents know you’re here?”

Looking down he shook his head.

“Oh dear,” he heard Mr. Angel say softly.

Joshua bit his lip.

“It’s okay, I’ve got this, angel,” he heard Mr. Snake-ley say, then he was moving away. “Amanda, it’s Crowley… yeah, he’s here. We thought you knew….”

“No need to worry yourself, my dear boy,” Joshua heard Mr. Angel say to him. “Everything will be fine and dandy.”

Joshua wasn’t sure everything could be ever fine and dandy again, but before he could respond, Mr. Snake-ley was answering the door and his mum was rushing in all emotion and red eyes. It was overwhelming for a moment and Joshua automatically shrunk back away from it while trying to block out the stream of words she was saying.

“Oh, sweetheart, you can’t just leave like that…. what if something had happened to you… we were so worried….”

Then the angel was there, all calmness and peace, gently taking her by the arm, soothing her with his angel-ness as he went.

“He was just having one of his moments,” Joshua heard the angel say. “We listened and he calmed down. We had hot chocolate.”

“Hot chocolate?” his mum said sharply. “But he’s not supposed to have lactose.”

“Hazelnut milk,” he said soothingly. “We’ve been experimenting. Isn’t that right, Joshua?”

Joshua nodded, because they had. It had been one of the best experiments.

“And only a small cup,” Mr. Angel continued.

His mum deflated slightly. “Thank you,” she said, “you’ve been most kind, but we won’t take up any more of your time. Come along, Joshua.”

“Amanda,” this was Mr. Snake-ley’s voice this time. “I know we don’t know each other particularly well, but right now it really looks like you could do with someone to talk to.”

It turned out that Mr. Snake-ley could be very persuasive when he wanted to be and the next thing Joshua knew his mum was crying again and more hot chocolate was being made.

“Why don’t you come and sit over here,” Mr. Angel was suddenly saying to him, guiding him to a rocking chair that he hadn’t seen before. It was covered in a soft dark red throw and had cushions on it. It was nice and snuggly and reminded Joshua of the angel.

“Here’s your cocoa, and down here is a book I think you’ll like.”

The book was nestled down beside a cushion. _The House at Pooh Corner_ he read. It was about Winnie the Pooh. He liked Winnie the Pooh. 

“Now, if you need us,” Mr. Angel continued, “we’ll just be over there talking with your mum. Is that alright?”

Joshua nodded, clutching his pokéball shaped mug.

The angel smiled and for a moment Joshua believed that everything _would_ be alright.

*

He still heard some of the conversation though, even though he hadn’t meant too, but sometimes it was hard to tune out all of these sorts of things.

He heard the words _pregnancy_ and _unplanned_. He heard _Graham_ and _arguing_, and _marriage_ and _difficulty_. He heard _people_ and _talking_, _small_ and _community_. And he heard _afraid_ and _coping_, his own name and _love_.

Through it all though, he heard his angel and his angel’s friend talking back to her, saying soft, wonderful things that seemed to make her feel better, even when she was crying. And although he knew she couldn’t see it, he could see their wings comforting her as well.

He fell asleep before they all finished talking, but that was okay because it had been a long and tiring day.

When he opened his eyes again it was to the dark red throw carefully wrapped around him and his mum softly calling his name. The first thing he thought when he saw her was that she was looking better than she had in a while, even though her eyes were still red and a bit swollen, and she was smiling at him in the way she used to before she got all sad. And his dad was there too, although he had no idea when his dad had come along. He was looking better too, less angry and with fewer lines across his face.

“Hey, bud, is it okay if I pick you up so we can go home?” his dad asked.

He nodded, because for once it was alright.

In fact, for once everything even felt alright.

“Thank you,” he heard his mum say to Mr. Angel and Mr. Snake-ley as they moved to the door. “I think I understand now why he likes you so much.”

*

School was better the next day.

There was still the noise and the chaos, there were still the looks and the whispers, his teacher still wasn’t as good as his last one, but none of that mattered as much anymore.

His mum picked him up as normal, and when they walked home, they went past the cottage on the corner, and although no one was outside in the garden – it was raining after all – his mum still stopped.

“You can go and knock,” she said. “It’s alright.”

So he went and knocked and Mr. Snake-ley answered it.

“Home by five-thirty, remember,” his mum called, “and he’s got to do his homework.”

Joshua watched as Mr. Snake-ley acknowledged her with a lazy wave and then he was being shown in. The rocking chair with the throw and cushions was still in the corner, although he still didn’t remember it being there in the past, but that didn’t matter, because suddenly Mr. Angel was there too, all smiles and bright glow, his wings fluttering, taking his coat to hang up and helping him take his shoes off.

“So, Joshua,” Mr. Snake-ley was saying as they settled down with apple juice and a slice of homemade angel cake, “tell us about school today.”

*

Apparently Mr. Angel, Mr Snake-ley and his parents had talked. In fact, it sounded as if they had talked _a lot_. Even better, it turned out that this was a good thing.

There was going to be an _agreement_. Joshua wasn’t entirely sure he knew what an _agreement_ was, but apparently it was about him. 

This was also apparently a good thing, and it was all because Mr. Angel and Mr. Snake-ley truly did like seeing him and spending time with him. And while Joshua had already known this – Mr. Angel had told him so after all – apparently his parents now knew this as well. Not only that, but his parents had also finally decided that being able to spend time with Mr. Angel and Mr. Snake-ley was also good for Joshua.

So they now had a schedule. Tuesdays and Thursdays were the special days. They were the days he got to go to the corner cottage after school, and he got to stay there until it was time for tea. Those were the really good days, when he got hot chocolate and a homemade snack. When Mr. Angel or Mr. Snake-ley helped him with this homework. When he helped Mr. Snake-ley with his plants or looking after the alpacas. When he told Mr. Angel more about his Pokémon. When he could do his colouring or his reading in the quiet. When they would sometimes play games like snakes and ladders or chess.

Tuesdays and Thursdays were his special days*, but they weren’t his favourite days, because his ultimate favourite day was the Saturday that he got to spend with them each month. Those were the best days of all, because then he got to spend the whole day with them, which made him really happy.

_*Although sometimes they weren’t always literally a Tuesday and or a Thursday, because there were some times when Mr. Angel and Mr. Crowley couldn’t do a particular Tuesday or Thursday because they were grown-ups and sometimes things happened and they needed to do other grown-up things. But when that happened they would also tell Joshua and Joshua’s mum as soon as possible and they would then organise for another day instead, which was good. So some weeks Tuesday and Thursdays became Monday and Thursday, or Tuesday and Friday, or one memorable week, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. _

Saturdays means no school, and no school meant that they had the whole day to do something in, which meant they could go out and do something exciting. Sometimes it was as simple as going for a walk and then feeding the ducks and playing in the playground. 

Other times it meant going out in Mr. Snake-ley’s car.* 

_*Which now miraculously had seatbelts in the back because Aziraphale had put his foot down and for once Crowley hadn’t argued. He also always drove sensibly when Joshua was with them without Aziraphale even needing to threaten him about it. _

Going out in Mr. Snake-ley’s car with Mr. Angel and Mr. Snake-ley was much more fun than going out with Granny and Grandad, because Mr. Angel and Mr. Snake-ley always seemed to know lots of quiet places that didn’t have many people around. They also knew so many interesting things about plants and animals and history, and Mr. Angel always knew where there was a nice little café where they could have hot chocolate and cake. A couple of times, when it wasn’t raining, they even went to the beach, where Mr. Angel and Mr. Snake-ley held hands while Joshua explored the rock pools and the stones. It was nice. And if he accidentally got his feet or gloves wet, then one of them would make them dry and warm again with a smile or a wink.

And even after the baby was born the agreement still continued, because apparently it was important for Joshua to have some special time that was just for him, and being at the cottage on the corner meant he wasn’t always around the chaos and the noise that the new baby brought.

*

Grace Amelia Hargreaves was born in the early spring, just as the snakes head fritillaries were starting to flower. Neither the birth nor the newborn were particularly remarkable*, but to Joshua she was perfect.

_*Although she was the reason Joshua got to see Mr. Angel and Mr. Snake-ley on the Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday of that particular week. _

As she grew up, Joshua appointed himself as her protector and guide, and did both as best as he possible could. In turn she became his fiercest defender and greatest encourager, both protective and proud of her big brother.

When as adults he expressed his doubts over his work and his theories, she kept him going, giving him the encouragement he needed to try again. 

When at the age of 46 he finally had his big break through, it was to her that he first turned, telling her everything even though they both knew she had no idea what he was babbling about. 

When at the age of 48 he finally got his work published, it Grace who threw the party and Grace who shielded him from the inevitable interest, scrutiny and backlash.

When at the age of 62 when they finally gave him the Nobel Prize, it was Grace who was in the front row, cheering the loudest even when she wasn’t supposed to be.

When Joshua Hargreaves changed the world, it was Grace who stood there and very proudly said, _that’s my big brother_.

Because Joshua Hargreaves did change the world. 

Although he slowly forgot why, for years he theorised that there must be other dimensions within time and space that couldn’t be sensed by current means. For much of his adult life he set about proving this, searching for that so called missing realm. For years he struggled with false start after false start, with dead end after dead end, with failure after failure, until finally he had his life changing breakthrough.

His theories would go on to change the face of science, and his name would go down in history with the likes of Newton, of Einstein, of Hawkins. Clean energy, new methods of communication, intergalactic space travel, everything suddenly became possible in ways people had never envisioned. Mankind took another jump forward, the stars now literally within their reach.

They called it Hargreaves Space, after the person who had ‘discovered’ it, and while it wasn’t exactly the space he had been looking for, as in it wasn’t the same space that two specific sets of wings had occupied for instance, scientifically that hardly mattered. Hargreaves Space changed the world.

He was the only person who never called it that though. 

Despite it not exactly being accurate, and despite it not exactly being true, and despite never really saying why he called it that, there was only one thing he ever called it; _ANGEL SPACE_.

*-*-*

_ “Do you suppose,” the figure in the dark, fitted suit remarked from the back of the Stockholm Concert Hall as at the front, a boy who was no longer a boy* but who would always remain a boy to them, accepted the prize he so dearly deserved, “that this still might have happened even without us.” _

*because humans aged so quickly.

_ “Perhaps,” his partner replied. “Someone was going to make the breakthrough at some point. It was inevitable.”_

_“But here and now?” the first figure asked, raising an eyebrow above his narrow framed tinted glasses as he motioned around the hall._

_“Oh probably not,” the second man acknowledged somewhat cheerfully. “I believe we can agree, my dear, that this was something wholly more… ineffable.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you've enjoyed Joshua's story. He's come a long way since a throw away line in my initial notes. I'm sure this won't be the last we see of him though, after all, he gets to have cool adventures with the Ineffable Duo once a month.
> 
> This will be the last for a couple of weeks though as I'm taking a short break. If nothing else you've now caught me up. I have nothing else finished to post. So I need to work on getting ahead again. (I started off 2 and a half stories ahead when I first started posting).
> 
> But I promise I will be back with new characters and old. There are still plenty of stories left in the village. After all, this is only the first few months of the first year. And anyway, they have some alpaca to get. :)
> 
> PS - thank you so much for all the lovely comments. I'm terrible at responding to comments (blame it on the ADHD) but they all mean so much. And the kudos as well. :)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Sunglasses](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25408603) by [Djapchan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Djapchan/pseuds/Djapchan)


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